


Apodyopsis

by NimueOfTheNorth



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Fantasy to Reality, First Kiss, M/M, Undressing, fantasising
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:40:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13281345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NimueOfTheNorth/pseuds/NimueOfTheNorth
Summary: If he is forced to listen to boring lectures for three days, Spencer really can't be held accountable for his imagination going wild, now can he.Reality might proof even better.





	Apodyopsis

**Author's Note:**

> An innocent word definition popped up on Facebook and led to this.

The BAU as a whole had been asked to organise a big law enforcement conference about the types of criminals they specialised in. The idea was for LEOs from all over the country to attend and learn about what characteristics of crimes to look for, which databases were available to them for further research or which they should enter their data into to help other agencies and how to do that efficiently.

The various units of the BAU got to present their respective specialities, their process and way to interact with local police departments and other agencies, and what kind of support they could offer in different situations; be it through a consult or on site.

The hopes of the brass were that the hesitations to call in the FBI for such cases would weaken and especially police departments would recognise earlier when cases required a more specialised approach. As a result, they hoped to reduce the numbers of victims across the board.

They even invited some independent experts whose research was relevant to their work to speak at the conference to make it look a little less like they were just advertising their own services.

It was a good idea, and though not everyone was ecstatic about the prospect of having to present in front of a huge group of people, they all had contributed to the efforts of making this a success.

Every unit and every agent remembered more than one case that could have gone much better if the locals had recognised the true danger earlier or had been a little more cooperative.

Spencer had been looking forward to giving proper lectures about the creative use of statistics and geographical profiling, rather than being expected to relate to young people during recruitment speeches. It had gone well and judging by the questions he’d been asked afterwards he had managed to bring his points across and not lose his audience. Though that might be largely due to Hotch’s help in prepping his lecture scripts.

Like most of the other agents, he’d stuck around for the rest of the three-day event to be available for questions during the breaks and try his best to do a bit of networking. As many PDs had sent their nerdier members to the event, he wasn’t even doing too badly at it.

Listening to all the other lectures wasn’t all that interesting to Spencer. He always kept track of what the other units were doing, their procedures and cases. But he knew it would look bad if he snuck away with a book all the time, so he stayed around, planning articles in his mind.

Unless Hotch was lecturing, that was.

Watching his Unit Chief in his well-tailored suits, with his natural authority, and his classic good looks was something that could capture Spencer’s attention for hours on end. And listening to that deep and strong voice was a secret pleasure of his. Spencer had never understood people saying they could listen to somebody reading the phone book to them - until he met Hotch.

The whole conference was worth it for Spencer if for no other reason than it had provided him with plenty opportunities to indulge in one of his favourite pastimes. Hotch had given lectures on victimology, administrative issues of interagency cooperation, legal aspects of cases spanning multiple jurisdictions, one on hostage negotiations together with Rossi, and the opening and closing address together with the other Unit Chiefs and Cruz. 

Spencer’s imagination had been fed a lot over the last three days.

They were in the middle of the final roundup of the event and with everyone taking turns at the lectern and standing off to the side of the stage when not speaking, Spencer got a lot of undisturbed watching-Hotch-time with nothing hindering his view.

He let his mind wander and without him even properly noticing, his imagination was taking over.

The rest of the room faded into darkness, leaving only Hotch in a pool of soft light. All the voices and other noises belonging to a large group of people didn’t seem to reach Spencer’s ears anymore.

He was thinking that even a well-tailored jacket like this was hiding more than he liked. And surely it had to be more comfortable without it, right? His imagined Hotch seemed to feel the same as he slipped out of the jacket and draped it over a chair that just happened to stand there.

Spencer loved the subtle stretch of the fitted shirts Hotch wore over his shoulders, chest and back as he moved. But it was a shame that the long sleeves hid all of those manly, strong and sexy forearms. He didn’t mind at all when the Hotch in front of his inner eye rather uncharacteristically unbuttoned his cuffs and very methodically rolled up his sleeves.

For all their phallic qualities, Spencer really thought that ties looked rather buttoned up and as pretty as Hotch’s was, it didn’t fit his current look. So the poor tie found itself slowly worked out of its knot and after a short moment dangling around the neck, completely pulled away and draped over the jacket. And because Spencer’s fantasies were efficient like that, Hotch undid the top two buttons of his shirt right away.

This was a look Spencer could enjoy for quite a while. A more open, much more relaxed Hotch, less hidden away in the armour of his suit. And yes, he was quite aware of the hypocrisy of this coming from someone who constantly hid in his clothes and had worn long sleeves most of his life, even when living in Vegas and California.

His fantasy, however, was a little more ambitious today. Maybe the boredom of three days of the conference was taking its toll.

Before Spencer was quite aware what was going on, Hotch was opening more and more buttons on his shirt. And pulling the tails form his pants. The stretch of slightly hairy skin that became teasingly visible where the shirt fell open had Spencer bite his bottom lip. Just seconds later, the shirt was gone completely, tossed to the side more carelessly than you’d expect from the ever so proper Unit Chief.

There was a corner of Spencer’s mind that reminded him that Hotch would normally wear an undershirt, but Spencer shushed that voice, much more interested in the fantasy Hotch on the stage.

He knew how Hotch looked shirtless, of course. Shared rooms on cases when they sometimes had to rush out in the middle of the night only afforded so much privacy, and his eidetic memory worked well enough for visual impressions that he knew exactly where every scar was. He also remembered all those lovely, lean muscles. Less showy than Morgan’s but efficient. Spencer knew enough about anatomy to imagine how every single one of them would move under the lightly tanned skin.

Spencer had no idea where shoes and socks had vanished to, and he absolutely didn’t care when a barefoot Hotch was unbuckling his belt and slowly pulled it from its loops.

His breath hitched a little when those strong hands went straight for the button of the pants next and then pulled down the zipper as well. There was nothing particularly sexy about how Hotch stepped out of his pants. It looked more like a slo-mo version of what Spencer had seen him do plenty of evening in hotel rooms all over the country.

But damn, it affected him all the same.

Those strong legs, honed by miles and miles of running and cycling were pretty much a dream come true for him.

Aaron’s thumbs had just hooked into the elastic of his boxer briefs when a firm hand slapped him on the shoulder, startling him out of his fantasy.

“Reid, man. What’s going on?”

“What?”

“Show is over. Finally, if you ask me. You seemed totally lost in your mind. Staring at Hotch if I’m not very much mistaken. What’s that all about?” Morgan looked at him with his normal brand of curious worry.

“What? No! No, I wasn’t staring. I didn’t notice. I was just… thinking. Not really interested in all those long-winding social niceties. You know me.” Spencer knew he was panicking a little because he felt caught. “I was doing a mental exercise. It’s quite fascinating really. It’s called apodyopsis, and it can help with-”

“Right, Professor. Sorry, but I’ve heard my share of lectures over the last days. I’ve reached my limit. Whatever makes this circus more bearable for you is fine by me. Let’s get outta here.”

Spencer let out a little sigh of relief that he hoped nobody was noticing. He had counted on Morgan interrupting him, and his little distraction wouldn’t have reached much further.

He was reaching for his messenger bag to follow the others when it was held up for him by Hotch. He hadn’t noticed when the man had joined them.

“Oh. Thank you.” Spencer fought the blush as much as he could, not needing for Hotch of all people to start asking him questions as well.

“Did you drive in today, Reid?”

“Ehm, no. I took the metro.”

“I could give you a lift home. I just need to drop these notes of in my office; then I’m good to go.” He looked at Spencer expectantly, and he just didn’t have it in him to say no.

“Yes, sure. That would be nice. Thank you.” The moment he’d said it, he was mentally slapping himself on the back of the head. Why did he have to torture himself like that? He was in no state to spend any amount of time alone with Hotch in an enclosed space! 

But now it was too late. Hotch was smiling at him, outright, properly smiling. As if he needed that.

“Great. Maybe I can pick up dinner at that Indian place near you. Jack has been asking for that one dish he had last time at yours.”

Spencer just nodded numbly as they exited the elevator on the sixth floor.

Hotch walked up to his office with his usual purpose and came out quickly again with his coat and briefcase. Spencer was just slipping into his own coat when Hotch stepped up to his desk.

“Ready?”

“Yeah.” Spencer thought he sounded incredibly lame, but he was simply too off-kilter for anything better.

Sitting in Hotch’s passenger seat felt more awkward than it had in a long time and Spencer knew that was all on him. Why oh why did he have to let his brain run off like that?!

Hotch pulled into the parking lot of the Indian restaurant just a block before Spencer’s apartment.

“Ehm, you know, I can just walk the rest of the way. Thanks for the lift. The dish Jack likes is number 78 on the menu. Thanks again!”

Spencer thought he’d managed a somewhat smooth escape when a hand settled on his arm, holding him back without any real force.

“Reid. Spencer, look at me.”

He did, fearful what he would see in Hotch’s expression, that he had figured it out somehow. He swallowed heavily before he could actually look his crush in the eyes. And as so often, the expression there was unreadable.

“I know you tried to use it as a distraction, but I happen to know what apodyopsis means.”

Spencer felt his heart stop and plummet somewhere into the area of his intestines. His mind barely registered when Hotch leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

“I prefer a more hands-on approach.”

Hotch had leaned back in his seat, his hand still warm and strong on Spencer’s arm.

He blinked a few times while his worldview rearranged itself.

“Really? I mean, do you mean it like I think you mean it? Because I still feel like I should probably apologise profoundly and put in a request for reassignment to another unit.”

Hotch was chuckling behind a gentle smile and squeezed Spencer’s arm reassuringly.

“I mean, that if you want, I would very much like to get us all some delicious food and then take you back to my place to enjoy said food in the company of my son and once he’s gone to bed, we could see how your imagination holds up against reality. In my bedroom in case that wasn’t clear enough.”

Spencer swallowed for entirely different reasons, his heart having returned to its rightful place making up for previously missed beats. “Sure. Yeah, I’d love to.”

“Okay.” The wide smile on Aaron’s face and the sparkle in his eyes made Spencer equally nervous and excited.

When Aaron moved to get out of the car, Spencer held him back. “Just one thing.”

And before his courage could leave him, he leant forward and kissed Aaron like he’d wanted to do for years. It turned even more heated when Aaron pulled him closer, angled his head, and opened his lips to deepen the kiss. They were both a little out of breath when they finally pulled apart.

“Reality has already beaten fantasy by leaps and bounds.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Apodyopsis: The act of mentally undressing someone; to imagine a person nude. (urbandictionary.com)


End file.
